Lessons at Bag End
by dreamflower02
Summary: Frodo has his first lessons from his Uncle Bilbo. This ficlet follows the event mentioned in "Grief" and "The Apology". (Written for Back to Middle-earth Month in March of 2006. This is from one of Shirebounds's Shirebunnies.) Book-verse; one-shot.


(Written for Back to Middle-earth Month in March of 2006, I somehow missed posting it here!)

This is from one of Shirebounds's Shirebunnies, and as it fits with the theme it is also for **hobbit_ficathon **as well_._

Here is the bunny:

_1. In FOTR Bilbo says to Frodo, "But I thought you knew enough Elvish at least to know dûn-adan: Man of the West, Númenorean. But this not the time for lessons!" Just what were Frodo's lessons like? What were Bilbo's teaching methods? Did Frodo even want to learn Elvish, or have lessons when he came to live at Bag End? Could he have been inspired to "go back to school" upon seeing Sam's joy in learning? Or was it an organic process, Bilbo teaching Frodo new things as he thought of them, as they hiked and lived together? _

**LESSONS AT BAG END**

[AUTHOR'S NOTES: Frodo is 16, or the equivalent of 10, in Man-years, in this story. It takes place shortly after "Buckland Spring", during the events of "Grief" and "The Apology". Frodo is visiting Bilbo at Bag End for a while after having run away from Brandy Hall due to a misunderstanding.)

**LESSONS AT BAG END **

"Frodo?"

Frodo looked up from his plate of second breakfast into the face of his older cousin. "Yes, Uncle Bilbo?"

"You know that I told you that you would have to have lessons while you are here, and that you are not to consider this a holiday. While I am very glad to have you here, you must realize that you did wrong to come away from Buckland the way you did."

"I know." Frodo bit his lip. He had written a letter of apology to Saradoc and Esmeralda last night. In his distress, he had never considered how upset and frantic his cousins might be at his disappearance. He realized now that he should never have run away like that. "Do you think Uncle Sara will let me stay a while?"

"I think when he reads my letter as well, he may do so. But it is going to take a few days before we get an answer, even by Quick Post. So we may as well start as we mean to go on. When you have finished eating, we shall go to my study." The older hobbit suppressed a smile, as he watched the younger one attempt to hide the eager gleam in his eye. "Here, my lad, take the last sausage, and have another scone."

Frodo, for his part felt a bit excited. He was an eager scholar for the most part, and enjoyed his lessons, except for sums. And he wondered what sort of lessons his Uncle Bilbo might set him. At home in Brandy Hall his tutor was his Uncle Dinodas, who had taught any number of young Brandybucks, and there was a certain rhythm of familiarity in his teaching. And then, he had his drawing lessons with Cousin Calla. He would miss those here; he did not suppose Uncle Bilbo would be giving him drawing lessons.

Bilbo watched the young teen eat, and began to plan the lesson in his mind. It had been many a long year since he had done any tutoring, but he had always enjoyed it. It would be nice to have a student again, even for a little while.

After breakfast, they did the washing up together, and Frodo followed Bilbo into the study. Like Uncle Dinodas' chamber at Brandy Hall, it was filled with crowded bookshelves, and books stacked on tables. Unlike Uncle Dinny, however, Bilbo had very little in the way of piles of papers laying about, except upon his large desk, that stood beneath the round window, and looked out upon the front garden. To the right of Bilbo's desk stood a round oak table and a couple of chairs. A draughts game was set up there. Bilbo quickly cleared it away into its box.

"Here, my lad, have a seat."

Frodo sat down at the table and watched Bilbo curiously. Bilbo went to a shelf that did not look as though it were used as frequently as the other bookshelves, and began to run his fingers along the spines of the books there.

"I am sure at your age, you know your genealogy," he remarked, as his hand paused upon one volume bound in pale blue.

"Yes, sir. And Uncle Dinny made sure I knew my Baggins side as well as my Brandybuck side."

"Of course, of course. And what have you been studying of history?"

"My last essay was on the Goblin Invasion in the North Farthing. And I believe that I was going to be learning about the settling there of Bandobras Took."

"And what of the world Outside? Have you been told any of the history beyond the Shire and Buckland?"

"Only about how the King of the North gave the Shire to hobbits to settle, and how, about three hundred years later, the last King made Bucca of the Marish the first Thain, and asked him to hold the Shire for him until a King returned. I really did not understand that. If he was the last King, how could a King return?"

Bilbo smiled. "Excellent question, my lad! Well...aha! Here it is! '_A Brief History of the Northern Kingdoms', _very good! That will do to begin on." He placed the volume on the table, and then went to his desk, where he procured a stack of parchment, a quill, a penknife, a bottle of ink and a small container of sand. "This should be enough to start." He looked at the large book, and opened it to the beginning. "Yes, yes, I did remember correctly; read the first section. Then I should like you to draw up a table of the Kings, using the information you find there, and you may begin to understand some of the answer to your question."

He looked further down on the shelf. "Good, good...it's still here!" He took out a slate and a small, rather dusty box of chalks. "You can use this to do up your rough draft, less waste of parchment that way. And it will be handy when I set you sums to do." Bilbo noticed with amusement the small face Frodo made at the mention of sums. He chuckled.

"Your father didn't like to do sums either," he said.

"My father?" Frodo asked in surprise. He had never really ever heard anybody talk much about his father. Whenever he was mentioned at Brandy Hall it was usually "Poor Drogo, he was so fond of Primula," which was lovely to know, but did not convey much information.

"Yes, yes," said Bilbo. "Before my Adventure came, and I lost my Reputation, I used to be the Baggins family tutor. In fact, your father and your Uncle Dudo were among my last students."

Frodo's eyes grew wide at this information, and Bilbo realized that his cousin would love to hear more about his father. Well, there would be time for that, surely, on this visit. He had asked Saradoc to allow Frodo to stay for at least two months.

"Now, I think you have everything you need, but if you have any questions, I will be right here at my desk doing my own work, so you just feel free to speak up."

"Yes, sir!" Frodo glanced down at the book, eager to see what new information was to be found there.

Bilbo started to turn to his desk, and then went back to the bookshelf once more. From an upper shelf he took down a dusty hourglass. He had used it in the past to keep track of time when working with a student. He blew the dust off, and gave it a cursory swipe with his handkerchief. It would not do to lose track of time the way he often did nowadays, now he had a student once more.

Bilbo placed the hourglass on the corner of his desk, turned it, and then drew out his own work.

Frodo interrupted a short time later. "Uncle Bilbo! It was _not_ Arvedui Last-King who made Bucca the Thain!"*

"No, it was not. It was his son who did so. Does that answer your question?"

"Well, it means the King's family did not die out, so maybe there could be some descendants…"

"Very good." Bilbo smiled, and returned his attention to a rather tricky verb.

For a good long while, no sound was heard save the turning of pages and the scratch of quill upon parchment, and a bit of occasional birdsong through the open window. The sands of the hourglass ran down unheeded, and the chime of the clock upon the mantelpiece was not even noticed.

Then there was an unmistakable sound. Bilbo gave a start.

"Frodo! Was that your stomach?"

Frodo's face flamed. "Yes, sir!"

Bilbo glanced at the hourglass guiltily, and then at the clock. "Bless me! We've worked right through elevenses and luncheon as well! Come, come, that will not do! You are a growing lad, and need your regular meals. Shall we go to the kitchen and see what we can find in the larder?"

Frodo got up with alacrity, Bilbo a bit more slowly. As Frodo passed Bilbo's desk, his eyes were caught by the papers there, and he stopped.

"Uncle Bilbo!"

Bilbo turned to him. "Yes, Frodo, what is it?"

The blue eyes were rapt. "Is that _Elvish_?"

"Yes, yes it is. It is a form of Elvish called 'Sindarin'."

Frodo looked up at his older cousin, longing in every line of his face, and Bilbo found himself warming to that eager gaze. "Do you think that is something you should like to learn as well?"

Words failing him, Frodo nodded fervently. He'd never wished anything so much before.

"Well, then, after we have managed to feed our faces, I shall see what I can do about setting you some lessons in that, as well."

Frodo gasped. "Oh, Uncle Bilbo," and launched himself at the older hobbit with a grateful hug.

Bilbo patted his back, and felt very gratified indeed. It looked as though he had found a kindred spirit at last.

And just then there was another protest, this time from two hobbit bellies.

They laughed, and headed for the kitchen.

x0x0x0x

I'd like to thank danachan. Her Annotated Tale of Years just made this little factoid jump out at me.


End file.
